His Queen
by quietlykeen
Summary: Set in 1x04, right after Francis and Mary's meeting at the lake. Francis might have told Mary to marry Tomas, but that didn't mean he wanted Tomas to have her. She was his queen. One-Shot. R&R please! Characters belong to their perspective owners.


"Come with me," Francis said, standing up. He held his hand out for Mary, his breathing labored from their kiss.

Mary took his hand without a word, her face flustered. This had been her second kiss, but it felt differently. It felt more passionate than the first.

Francis lead her back into the castle, careful to not be seen by anyone. Though maybe he should have let someone see them. It would break off Mary's new engagement after all. But he couldn't do that to her, not when she needed Portuguese's army.

Mary knew they were going to his room the moment they turned the corner. Her breathing quickened slightly, as did her pace. When Francis opened the door to his room and ushered her in, she didn't have time to think about what they were about to do. Francis was kissing her the second after he'd bolted the door. He covered her body with his, pressing her against the wall. He kissed her lips, then her neck, his hands traveling down her chest and around her waist before going back up her back. She shivered at his touches, and she felt her body heat up with each touch.

Francis needed this. It probably made him a selfish bastard, but he needed it. He couldn't let Mary go off and marry Tomas. She was his, had been since they were kids. He didn't want Tomas being her first, the one who pleasured her, the one whose name she moaned. That was supposed to be him. If he were just a man, not a king and she were just Mary not a queen, that would be them. "Mary," he moaned against her neck as he kissed it. His fingers worked on uniting the corset she wore, fast and nimble. "Oh Mary, my Mary," he said as he kissed her jaw towards her ear.

Mary felt her corset loosen and her top began to slip off, leaving her in her green slip. "Franics," she moaned his name, lost in the way his hand traveled down her back, grabbing her dress and pulling it upwards. She could feel the cool air on her legs and she blushed at the thought of how unmodest she looked right now. What would the nuns say?

Francis worked his way slowly, pulling her green silk slip upward. Why couldn't women just wear one piece dresses? They'd be so much easier to take off. His hands pulled it over her stomach and he took a moment enjoy the touch of her flesh against his. "Raise your arms for me," he commanded softly, and she followed suit. When the blasted thing was finally on the floor, Francis looked at Mary. She looked down, her cheeks red. "Look at me," he told her, turning her face towards him. "You are beautiful," he said and kissed her before she could protest. He walked them backwards from the wall towards his bed, where he pushed her down slowly. She looked like an angel, a beautiful angel. Francis pulled his shirt off and returned to her side, his hands entangling themselves in her dark hair as he kissed her passionately.

Mary moaned, feeling his bare skin upon hers. A part of her knew this wasn't right. She was engaged to Tomas now. But she wanted Francis, she always wanted Francis. She gasped as his cool hand cupped her left breast, the touch sending a shock through her system. She arched her back towards him as his tongue swirled around her pert nipple. It was a feeling she hadn't experienced before, something she'd only heard Kenna attempt to explain. She placed her own fingers through his hair, keeping him close as he moved onto her other breast.

Francis couldn't help but smile at the way Mary moaned. He enjoyed it, enjoyed how he made her moan. He was quickly discovering the sounds she made, figuring out what made her moan lustfully, what made her gasp in pleasure. Francis moved his left hand down her body, making her shiver. It skimmed over the top of her underpants, the last remaining clothing she wore. As much as he wanted to take her, to make her his and only his, he wanted to pleasure her. This was all about Mary, because he didn't have much time with her anymore. He dipped his hand under the cloth, his finger running up and down her slit softly. She was so wet. With his other hand, he pulled down the ridiculous piece of clothing to her knees, where it slid onto to floor from there. "Relax for me Mary," he whispered as he kissed her lips. He'd felt her tense slightly as she became bare to him. "Trust me." He felt how her body relaxed once more and he smiled. His hands spread her legs apart as he kissed his way down her body. Francis looked at her, how beautiful she was, glistening for him. He blew slightly at her core and he felt her shiver.

Mary couldn't describe anything right now. Just that it was the most magical thing in the world. She could feel the way his tongue slipped in and out of her, the way his circled around her clit. There was a pressure building up inside of her, waiting to be released. "Francis," she moaned his name, her hips raising themselves towards him. She heard him chuckle. "Impatient as always," she heard him say.

Then her body was once more covered by his. And she could hear the way he undid the belt from his pants. Her hands went to the button and she undid it for him. Francis kissed Mary as he pushed his own clothes off. They were finally bare, together. Their touches were delicate, yet hurried. Each one discovering a sense of passion they didn't know they had. The way their fleshes mixed, it seemed like they couldn't distinguish the barrier that separated them. Finally together.

Francis lowered himself between her legs, holding himself back as he looked down at his girl, his queen. "Trust me," he said again. She nodded "Always," she responded. He covered her lips with his and entered her in one swift movement. Mary cried out, her first time hurting just like the sisters at the convent had said it would. "It will get better," Francis told her and he began to move slowly, in and out of her body. And then Mary's pain turned into a blissful emotion. She spread her legs farther, and she moaned at the new depth Francis came.

Francis resisted his urge to go quickly, instead basking in the feeling that was Mary. She was so tight, she felt so good. "Faster Francis," he heard her say. And he obeyed, quickening his pace. Mary's hips bucked up to meet him and soon they were in sync, each one taking pleasure in the other. Finally, they were joined in a way that no one could ever separate them.

Mary curled and uncurled her toes, her body arching to meet his thrusts. It was erotic, it was hot. She could feel Francis start to swell inside her, and it made her moan as her own pleasure began to reach its peak. "Francis!" she cried out as bliss overcame her in orgasm.

Francis could feel Mary coming to her orgasm, the way she milked him signaling for him it was time. When she cried out his name in pure happiness, he lost it. "Mary!" he cried out and stilled as his own orgasm flooded her. Their juices mixed in the union on their love and when Francis pulled out, he lowered himself next to Mary on the bed.

"You are my Queen," he told her, cupping her cheek. "You will always be my queen."

"As you are my one true King," Mary told him, and kissed him. In that moment, they were all that mattered.

At that moment, he was just a man and she was just Mary.


End file.
